


Warrior and Minstrel

by silvertrails



Series: A Creature of Two Worlds [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Gildor returns home to find that Lindir has grown into a beautiful Elf.





	1. Chapter 1

**Warrior and Minstrel  
By CC   
October, 2009**

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

I go for Home 12 canon, so Orodreth is Angrod’s son, and Gil-galad’s father. I am giving Orodreth a younger brother, Inglor, who would be Gildor’s father. 

The story is set in Imladris on TA 141, ten years after A New Home.

Thank you to Alex for her help beta reading this story. :)

* * *

Lindir stood, sword in hand, ready to strike at the right time. His opponent was stronger and stocky-built for an elf, but Lindir had learned to use the speed his slimmer body gave him to his advantage. He waited a bit longer, feet firmly set on the ground, and raised his sword to parry the blow, and quickly counterattacked. He didn’t disarm his opponent, but he did force him to move away before starting a new attack.

“You have improved, Lindir,” Erestor said when the practice was over. Erestor had been a great warrior in Lindon, and a friend of Lindir’s father. Erestor and Glorfindel often trained the younger elves in the arts of war, but Lindir had not yet been allowed to join the patrols. Being of age was not enough, and elves younger than a century were discouraged from any activity that placed them in danger. 

It was a peaceful time in Middle-earth, but sometimes patrols confronted the orcs still prowling on the west bank of the Anduin, or hill trolls on the way to the Havens. Lindir worried that Gildor and his company might encounter such creatures, even if everyone said that they were stupid and easy to fool. Lindir didn’t agree. Trolls were strong and single-minded, and that made them dangerous. 

“Thank you, Erestor,” Lindir said. “It was an honor to spar with you, and I’m glad I survived it,” he added with a small grin. 

Erestor smiled slightly. “I was careful not to kill you, young one. I didn’t want to upset the twins. They are fond of you.”

“Then I’m lucky they are,” Lindir said, his grin fading a bit. He was never certain if Erestor was joking or not. He was pretty certain the older elf would never hurt him, but had Erestor been holding back?

“Just tell him he did well, cousin,” another elf said. It was Glorfindel. “He was not holding back, Lindir. Not as much as he implies, at least. You have improved since the last time I saw you two sparring.”

“Would you mind sparring with me now, cousin?” Erestor said. “It’ll be good for Lindir to watch, and I won’t need to hold back.”

Glorfindel smiled somewhat wickedly, and soon they were sparring as if their lives depended on it. Lindir had seen them fence before, but never like this. It seemed to him that both elves were back in the days when carrying a sword had been a necessity, not a matter of choice. Erestor was good, very good, and he gave Glorfindel a good fight, but the golden-haired elf was stronger and more experienced. In the end, they were both covered with small cuts and bruises. 

Many young elves had gathered to watch Erestor and Glorfindel, and now were speaking animatedly about the match. Many of them were already in the patrols, and those under each elf’s command praised their captain. The group dissolved when Glorfindel asked if they had nothing better to do, but Lindir could see the hidden humor in his blue eyes. Erestor was scowling at him, but his expression changed as soon as he realized that Lindir was watching him. 

“I believe you have something else to do, Lindir?” 

Lindir started to shake his head and froze. There would be a performance in the Hall of Fire soon, a play in which he was going to sing and play the flute. The rehearsal would start in less than two hours! Lindir rushed to the baths, oblivious to the looks those whose path he crossed gave him. 

Once in the baths, he quickly got rid of his clothes and got into the warm water. There were other elves there, a few of them members of the dawn patrol; others were too young to leave the vale, and as eager as Lindir to do so. They were listening to the older elves’ account of the encounter with the shape-shifters who lived near the Carrock. Lindir had never seen one of them; another reason for him to wish he was already old enough to join the patrols. 

“It isn’t as exciting as they think,” a voice said behind Lindir. It was Lómië, one of the most accomplished guards Imladris had. Lómië was a hundred and forty years old, and wore his hair shorter than most elves. Erestor had told Lindir that Lómië had lived with men for a short while. 

“Is it not so?” Lindir asked, turning to look at the other elf. Lómië was always nice to him. 

“It can be dangerous,” Lómië said, giving Lindir a towel. “Let me help you with the robe.”

As he rose from the bath, Lindir was suddenly aware of the way Lómië was looking at him. He blushed, and covered his body with the towel before allowing Lómië to help him. 

“You are beautiful,” Lómië said softly. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Lindir. It’s the truth.”

“I don’t see myself as beautiful, but thank you,” Lindir said quietly. He tied the sash of the robe, and looked at Lómië. “I have to go, Lómië. I have a rehearsal…”

Lómië smiled softly. “Of course, you should go now. I am looking forward to seeing the play.”

Lindir nodded, and managed a small smile. His heart was beating furiously as he left the baths. Nobody had ever called him beautiful, and Lómië was so handsome… Surely the other elf was just being nice, but it felt good to be called beautiful. Lindir’s mind drifted to Gildor, and for a moment he imagined the blond elf speaking Lómië’s words. Lindir shook his head, knowing there was no way for Gildor to see him as other than a child. It would be better to stop fantasizing about this.

Back in his quarters, Lindir quickly changed into fresh clothes, and wrung as much as of the moisture as possible from his hair before fixing it in two loose braids. He took his flute and the scrolls with his lines, and rushed to the Hall of Fire. Most of the other performers were there already. Lindir was very relieved that he was not the last to arrive. 

“What took so long?” Líriel asked. She was a pretty maiden, and every elf in the vale seemed to think so. Lindir was very fond of her. 

“But I’m not the last to come…”

Larion snorted. “Because Maelion is sick, or you’d been the last.”

Lindir frowned. “It’s not that late.”

“No, it isn’t,” Líriel said. “Don’t pay attention to Larion. He was hoping you wouldn’t come so he could play your role.”

“I will have to make sure he is sick next time,” Larion said, grinning. 

Lindir’s expression softened, but he didn’t smile. Larion was never friendly to him, but remained in the boundaries of courtesy. Maybe it was just a matter of different personalities. He had to smile, though, when Líriel winked at him.

“Come then, my prince,” she said. “I am ready to enchant you and make you forget about everything but my eyes.”

Everyone was smiling but Larion, but Lindir ignored him. He loved music, and performing was one of the things he did well. He took Líriel’s hand and kissed it, and they started to sing. Their voices blended well, and even the birds seemed to stop singing. Lindir could feel his spirit soar into the sky and reach somewhere far away from Imladris. He quickly got his mind under control, and slowly Líriel’s face appeared before him. Nobody had noticed. That was good. There was no need to trouble anyone with this.


	2. Chapter 2

Gildor steered his mount into the narrow path that led to Imladris. It was unmarked, if you looked for the signs men used, but there were less obvious marks easy to find for an elf, or for someone who knew what to look for. Elrond’s realm was a haven for elves and men, but that didn’t mean he wanted everyone to know where the vale was. If its location became widely known, it would no longer be a safe haven. 

The wandering company had been away for months this time, and everyone longed for a rest in Elrond’s realm. Families didn’t come along, as children would slow down the company if haste was needed. There were young couples who traveled until the elleth was pregnant, and couples whose children were old enough to stay in the vale by themselves. 

“We are almost there,” Galeth said. He was what you would call Gildor’s second in command if they were part of an army, but they were not. Galeth was simply one of Gildor’s most trusted friends. 

“At last,” Gildor said, and he could not hide the weariness in his voice. He was apparently immune to the gulls’ song, but it did affect him if they stayed for too long near the shore. Galeth was almost as old as Gildor, but not quite. 

Galeth’s gray eyes scrutinized him calmly. “You look tired, Gildor.”

“I am.” Gildor smiled. “I just need a few days of rest in the vale.”

“Maybe it is time for us to sail,” Galeth said. They were lovers too, not bonded as their union was one of friendship. Galeth’s beloved had died at the hands of orcs, and Gildor had never felt the need to bond with any ellon or elleth. 

He wondered what Lindir was doing. The young elf that Gildor had once taken to his house and nursed back to health had turned into a beautiful ellon. Aelia and Ornil would be proud. That night, Eärendil’s light had bathed Lindir, giving Gildor a sign, someone to care for, a new home. 

“No, Galeth, I cannot sail while Elrond needs me. There is also Lindir. He is better now, but sometimes his mind seems to be far away from the vale. Something happened to him when Aelia and Ornil died. I cannot leave Lindir alone.”

Galeth smiled good-naturedly. “No, you cannot leave Lindir alone. It’s time you realized it.”

Gildor sighed in exasperation. “I don’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” Galeth was the image of innocence. 

“Let’s go,” Gildor said, half-glaring at his friend and lover. What had gotten into Galeth lately? Lindir was a child, a beautiful one, but too young for Gildor to see him other than as his protégé. 

They entered the vale at dusk, and Gildor could not hide his contentment at being back. Even though the weather was cold outside, Vilya’s power kept the vale’s temperature from going down too abruptly. Not many elves knew that Elrond had Vilya, and those who did, never asked further. 

Glorfindel was waiting for him at the stables. “You look tired,” he said. 

“I’d appreciate if people stopped telling me that,” Gildor said with a wry smile. He embraced Glorfindel. “I’m glad to see you too.”

Glorfindel grinned. “Welcome back, cousin. You’ve been away for too long. Erestor actually missed you.”

Gildor laughed and turned around when someone cleared his throat. 

“See?” Glorfindel said. “He’s here!”

“Just to make sure everything’s all right,” Erestor said, mild irritation coloring his voice. He too scrutinized Gildor.

“You should bathe and eat something, so you can attend the performance in the Hall of Fire,” he said. “Lindir will be very happy to know that you are back.”

“Lindir is going to perform?”

Glorfindel placed an arm around Gildor’s shoulders, slowly guiding him away from the stables. Erestor followed in silence. 

“Yes, the bird has extended its wings at last,” Glorfindel said. “He has the main male role, and he will sing a song he composed for the play. Erestor is right. Lindir will be very happy to see you. It’s been two years, Gildor.”

“I know,” Gildor said as they approached the path that led to his home. He usually came back to the vale at least once a year, but this time he had traveled far into the west, marking the new settlements of men in a map, and watching for any sign of danger. He had stayed with Círdan for a long time too, after being hurt while trying to help a child who had fallen into the Mitheithel. 

“Lindir might not know that you are here yet,” Erestor said. “He is in the Halls getting ready for the performance. Maybe someone should tell him so he doesn’t forget his lines when he sees you.”

“I think I will go seek him,” Glorfindel said, surprising Gildor. He had never seen Glorfindel willingly do as Erestor said. Something else was going on here. He grinned at Glorfindel, anyway. 

“Will I see you there?” 

“You will!” Glorfindel called back. 

He turned to look at Erestor, questioningly. He bade Gildor to continue walking and stopped before his home. “It’s about Lindir,” Erestor said. “We are all worried about him. He is better, but sometimes his eyes cloud and his mind seems to be somewhere else. Elrond has tried to look into his mind, to establish some sort of link that would help us bring him out of it, and learn the reason why this happens.”

“And-?”

“There is a wall Elrond cannot breach, a wall that is not of Lindir’s making. Someone put that wall there. We don’t know if this one was evil or good.”

“But it’s more probable that it was someone evil.”

“We don’t know. There is always a possibility that someone tried to spare Lindir the pain of too many bad memories.”

“What did Morbeorn say?”

“We haven’t asked him yet. Glorfindel will leave the vale in two days and cross the Misty Mountains. They might remember any detail that might help Elrond to heal Lindir.”

“I could go with Glorfindel.”

“We’ll see about that,” Erestor said. 

“Must I remind you that I am older than you, cousin?” 

Erestor had always been bossy, and being the youngest cousin, both Glorfindel and Gildor teased him about it.

“Galeth told me about your injury, cousin.”

Gildor opened his mouth to speak, but Erestor raised a hand, asking for silence. “I advise you to rest and do as the healers say. They will be here in time so you can attend the performance.”

This said, Erestor turned around and left. Gildor frowned. He would speak to Galeth later. For now it would be a good idea to bathe and change into more comfortable clothes before those healers came.


	3. Chapter 3

Lindir stood, already dressed in his character’s robes, trying to still his racing heart. Glorfindel had told him that Gildor had come, and that he would be present in the Hall of Fire for the performance. Lindir was very happy to know that his friend was back, but to perform before Gildor was another matter. What would Gildor think? Would he like Lindir’s performance? Lindir raised a hand to smooth his hair, and undid one of his elaborate braids in the process. 

“Let me help you,” Larion said. He was magnificent in his costume. Lindir nodded, confused at the unexpected offer. Larion didn’t seem to like him at all, but maybe he was worried about the performance.

“There you are.” 

“Thank you, Larion.”

“Where have you been, Lindir? Come with me. It’s time to begin…”

Lindir followed Líriel obediently, taking a deep breath. He had never been afraid of crowds, but there was someone among the smiling faces whom Lindir had not seen in two years. He wondered how Gildor looked now. Would his hair be longer? Would his clothes look foreign? The elves from Gildor’s company wore the gray Elven cloaks, but their tunics and breeches were different than those worn in Imladris. 

There were children singing, while an elleth played the harp. From his vantage point, Lindir could watch the audience without being seen. Lord Elrond was there, along with Lady Celebrían and the twins. Glorfindel and Erestor were there too, and Galeth. Lindir was about to ask Líriel if she had seen Gildor when the elf came to sit beside Galeth. Lindir forgot how to breathe. Gildor looked even more beautiful than he remembered, even if a tad pale. 

“Stop dreaming, my prince,” a voice said behind him. “It is time to start wandering alone in the woods, so I can find you and enchant you.”

Lindir smiled nervously, but when the music changed signaling the moment for his appearance on stage, he moved in determinedly and started to sing the first song. As the performance went on, the audience seemed enthralled, and once it was over, the applause was unanimous. 

There was a banquet afterwards, and many lingered in the Hall of Fire once it was over, drinking and singing, refusing to let the night end. Lindir had dined with his fellow performers and musicians, and now he was back in the Hall, expecting to find Gildor. Hopefully Galeth was otherwise occupied. Lindir was aware of how close Galeth and Gildor were, but he didn’t like to think about it. 

He sat beside a fountain and looked around, but there was no sign of Gildor. There was slight noise behind his back, like water running very fast. Lindir stood and turned around, but the Halls had disappeared and he was standing in the middle of a clearing. Lindir approached the water, struggling to understand what was going on. He had been in these woods once, had he not? 

“Lindir?”

Lindir stopped walking, and shivered as the woods faded until all he could see was a very worried face. It was Gildor. 

“Lindir, breathe,” came the soft command.

Lindir inhaled with some difficulty, only then realizing that his heart was racing and his head was spinning. He leaned against Gildor, who embraced him carefully. 

“Don’t worry, I have you.”

“I… a forest clearing…”

“Hush, you will tell me when you are feeling better…”

“No, Gildor, I will forget…”

“All right, all right, but let me take you somewhere quieter.”

Lindir could hear Erestor’s voice, and Galeth’s, but when Gildor picked him up, the vale disappeared around him, and he was in the forest clearing once again. Lindir trembled and blindly searched for Gildor’s robe, and only when he found it did the clearing disappear again. 

He was placed on a soft bed, and though Lindir expected to see Gildor, it was Lord Elrond’s face that appeared in front of him. 

“Lindir, you must tell me what you saw,” Elrond said softly. His voice had a hypnotic quality. Lindir didn’t want to go back to the forest, but he trusted Lord Elrond to keep him safe. 

“I… A forest… There is someone there… beautiful… They sing…”

“They sing? Were there two persons there?”

Lindir nodded, smiling when he saw those elves again… Were they elves? They sang to him, and everything was all right again.

“Lindir?”

“You cannot tell Elrond about me, Lindir,” one of the beautiful elves said. “He must not know. He will be sad.”

“You knew my parents? You know where they are?”

“Your parents will meet you when you sail West, Lindir.”

“Where are they?”

“Lindir…”

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

“Lindir, come back. Lindir, that’s enough.”

“Why did you take so long to call Lindir back?”

That was Gildor, and he sounded angry.

“It was necessary.”

“Elrond, I…”

“Later, Gildor,” Elrond said firmly. “Stay with him now. Erestor, please come with me.”

Lindir turned back to Gildor, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked very angry. What had happened?

“How do you feel, Lindir?”

“Confused… What did Lord Elrond do? Why are you angry at him?”


	4. Chapter 4

Gildor looked at Lindir, his pale face, confusion in his eyes. He wanted to ask Elrond what he had seen, but he didn’t want to leave Lindir alone. Not after he had collapsed in the Hall of Fire.

“I’m not… angry at him. I’m just frustrated… Never mind me, Lindir. We are all worried for you, so I hope he managed to find something…”

“There were two elves,” Lindir said. “Two beautiful elves, tall, dark haired… One of them had gray eyes and the other… the other was otherworldly… His eyes were blue, and his hair was as dark as the night. They were kind to me, Gildor.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“No, I have never seen them before… I cannot remember their names, but they sang beautifully, and then I fell asleep in the blue-eyed elf’s arms.” Lindir paused. “He didn’t seem to be an elf, not like us. His voice was like the music that comes from the creeks. He said I was his child, the same as Daeron was- the same as Makalaurë was…”

“Makalaurë?”

Lindir nodded faintly, his eyes slowly becoming unfocused as sleep took hold of him. Gildor brushed a stray hair off Lindir’s forehead, and pulled the covers around the younger elf’s body.

Had Lindir met the son of Fëanor? The one who was lost and never returned to the Blessed Lands or among his people? And who was that with him? Gildor had been born in Nargothrond, but his mother had told him about the Valar and Maiar she had met. There was a Maia, companion to Ulmo, but that one didn’t sing…

“Omar, you are thinking of Omar,” Glorfindel said. 

Gildor almost started. He had forgotten Glorfindel was still there. “Did you also see what Elrond saw?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “No, but I thought you were wondering who would be with Káno. Omar has blue eyes, the same as his twin, Salmar. When I was little and visited my grandfather, they came to make music under the Trees. Salmar would play the harp, and Omar would sing.”

“So you think Maglor is walking through the land with a Maia?”

Glorfindel shrugged slightly. “It could be, and it would explain why Lindir could not remember. And why Elrond is so upset.”

“Maglor.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Elrond was very fond of him, I think. I have never spoken about this with Elrond, but Erestor would know. It was he who guided Elrond and Elros to Lindon when Maedhros and Kano let them go.” 

“I know. I was there too.” 

At least it was nothing harmful to Lindir, Gildor mused, though it still worried and angered him that Maglor… No, not Maglor but probably Omar, had altered Lindir’s memories. It had backfired, making Lindir prone to these episodes of disorientation. 

“It is still strange,” Glorfindel said softly. “A Maia would not erase someone’s memories unless absolutely necessary. I would understand Maglor not wanting Elrond to know he’s been close, but it is still a selfish reason, and Maiar do not act on such reasons.”

“My thoughts too,” Gildor said. “So something else might have happened that day. I wonder if Elrond saw it, whatever it was.”

“Maybe he will tell us later,” Glorfindel said. He moved toward the door. “I will have some food sent here, for you and for Lindir. Is that all right?”

Gildor nodded. “Thank you, cousin.” He turned his attention back to Lindir, who was sleeping peacefully now. What could have happened to him? Had Lindir been tortured by the orcs that killed his parents, had he been raped? Gildor didn’t want to think that Lindir had suffered such abuse, but Elrond had told him that Lindir had been quite battered up when the Beornians had found him. 

“I will leave you now,” Glorfindel said. “I promised the twins I would take them to a picnic near the pond.”

Gildor smiled. “You will need four hands to stop them from falling into the pond.”

“I know. That’s why I have recruited Erestor. I hope he has finished his conversation with Elrond. If not, maybe Celebrían will come with us.”

Gildor nodded. He looked around Lindir’s bedroom, smiling a bit when he saw an elaborate carving from the northern men Gildor himself had given the younger elf. There were small objects made of metal, dwarven-made, and beads for Lindir’s hair. Actually, Lindir had been wearing one of those tonight. He had looked beautiful sitting in the Hall of Fire and for a moment Gildor imagined how it would have been to take the younger elf in his arms and…

He stopped his thoughts, startled at the turn they were taking. This was Lindir, Aelia’s and Ornil’s son, a child still… No, not a child anymore, but Gildor could never close the age gap between them. Gildor was millennia old, even older than Elrond. He could not approach Lindir as anything but a friend.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a week or so since Lindir had collapsed in Gildor’s arms, and only a few days since he had been allowed to leave the bed. Lindir was happy to be in the open, listening to the birds chirping in the trees, and watching the squirrels running around, looking for food for their young. The fruits in the trees were ripe for the taking, and the crops had been plentiful this year, with Yavanna’s blessing. Lindir could feel the vale humming with life all around him, but a new restlessness had taken hold of him, something that had nothing to do with his projects, or his… ailment. It was something new that had been taking shape inside him, but only when he saw Gildor at the Hall of Fire he had realized what it was. 

He could no longer see Gildor as a friend or a mentor. He wanted Gildor to realize that he was no longer a child. Yet Gildor was old, so old that even elves older than Lindir were like children to him. Gildor had lived for so long, having seen the world break, set on fire, and then heal, allowing life to grow again. What could Lindir offer in return? His love might not be enough, and there was still Galeth.

Lindir sighed, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He had been walking without thinking and now he was standing on his favorite spot near the Bruinen. It was a somewhat wild place, green grass, blue and white bell-shaped flowers, and a strong oak tree that shaded the spot from the sunlight at noon. Lindir had composed more than one piece while sitting alone on this place, but he didn’t feel inspired at the moment. 

I want to see what’s beyond the Bruinen, to the West. I want to see the real wilderness, and I want to see it with Gildor…

Lindir thought he would be surprised at this, but he wasn’t. It was as if the veil that had covered his eyes for the last few years had fallen and he could see the world clearly for the first time. He didn’t know yet if he loved Gildor, but he certainly knew that he wanted to be with him. 

Slowly, the music came to Lindir’s mind and his eyes unfocused as he allowed himself to fall into a dreamlike state. He was safe in the vale, and he knew that if someone found him, they would not disturb him. He started to sing to himself softly, and the visions came one after the other, making the music in his head even more real. 

Lindir loved music, and when he sang, his whole being seemed to be attuned to nature. It was as if he entered a new place where rhythm and harmony guided everything and all he had to do was blend into one of the beautiful songs others were singing. Had he sung like this one day, with those who created music as Lindir had never dreamed? The images were clear now, and he could see the same beautiful elves who had taught him that life was still beautiful, that there was still hope for him. 

If only Lindir could see them again, but they had warned him not to linger on these thoughts. They had told him that even if he forgot them, the music would always be in his heart. Lindir sighed, his eyes focusing on his surroundings again. They had also spoken about love, and the need to forget… the need to forget the pain.

Lindir shivered. He didn’t want to remember the pain, and the fear he had endured. He didn’t want to understand what had happened to him at those creatures’ hands. He had seen his body in their hands, but all of a sudden they had let go of him, and Lindir had been back inside a battered and bruised body. He didn’t want those memories back! Why were they back?

The scream rose from his throat as he saw his parents die once again, and as much as Lindir struggled to block the pain, it would not subside. Those terrible creatures had killed his father, and they had hurt his mother… They had made him watch, and when it was over, they had tried to do the same to him, laughing when Lindir cried for help. They had hit him into silence, and they had touched him, laughing as he grew limp in their arms. That had been when Lindir had seen his body in their hands, but before they could go further, a powerful light had risen from the river behind, and a fiery sword had done away with those who were not fast enough to escape the light. The light had grown brighter before fading to leave the most beautiful elf Lindir ever saw. The hands holding the sword had been scarred, but the arms holding him were strong, and suddenly Lindir had been back in his bruised body, the pain making him moan out loud.

“Hush, you are safe now, little one,” the grey-eyed elf had said. “Nobody will hurt you again.”

“My child,” the other elf had said. “My beautiful child… Sleep now, Lindir, rest. I promise everything will be all right again.”

Slowly, the scene faded away, and Lindir found himself lying on the ground, cold and trembling all over. He sat up slowly, the terrible scenes still playing in his mind. His father had died at those orcs’ hands, and his mother had been cruelly raped. Lindir himself would have suffered the same fate if it were not for those kind elves who had rescued him, and nurtured him back to health. 

Everything was clear now, in his mind, in his heart. Lindir stood, an icy coldness seizing his spirit. Those orcs had killed his parents, and here was he, playing the minstrel. He should be training, so one day he could join the patrols and help keep others safe. It was not revenge that moved him, no. He knew how futile it was, and those orcs were dead anyway. He simply didn’t want others to suffer the same fate as his parents. 

Slowly, still trembling slightly but determined to be strong, Lindir started the way back to his house. When he first came to the vale, Lindir had lived in Lord Elrond’s house for a while, though he sometimes stayed with Gildor, but he had his own house now. It was small, with white walls, and Lindir had planted the same bell-shaped flowers that grew in his favorite spot in the front garden. It was a cozy place, and Lindir found himself feeling better as he approached his home. Nothing could hurt him in the vale, nothing could hurt him now, but his spirit was as bruised as his body had been back then, and he didn’t know if he would ever heal.


	6. Chapter 6

Gildor stood beside the training camp, watching Lindir spar with Lómië, one of the young guards. Gildor had never seen Lindir fencing before, and he wondered at the reason for the cold determination in the young elf’s eyes. There was no anger or heat in the way Lindir stopped his opponent’s thrusts, just precise movements that allowed the slim elf to gain the upper hand from time to time. Lómië was obviously more experienced, but Lindir was giving him a hard time.

It was the blank expression on Lindir’s face that troubled Gildor. Something had changed in the normally sweet and vivacious elf. Gildor had spoken to him one night, and Lindir had been polite but strangely distant. He had asked Gildor about his travels, and the dangers of the road to the Havens, but it had been like speaking to a ghost of the young elf Gildor remembered. 

Lómië fell to the floor after a rather vicious trust, and looked up at Lindir, surprised. Gildor stepped forward, but Erestor was there already, eyes blazing with anger. 

“Enough!”

Lindir seemed to wake from a dream, and there was deep regret and pain in his eyes. He let his sword fall to the floor and extended a hand to Lómië. 

“I am sorry, Lómië,” Lindir whispered.

Lómië scrutinized Lindir for a moment before smiling good-naturedly and taking the offered hand. “It’s all right, Lindir. No harm done. I should know better than to let your beauty distract me.”

Gildor felt a surge of anger at Lómië’s words, but pushed the feeling away. Lómië seemed to care for Lindir, and to understand the strange frame of mind the younger elf was in. Gildor glanced at Lindir, and noticed with regret that the blank mask had fallen in place once again. 

Erestor was frowning. “Everyone to the baths, and Lindir, come to my study this afternoon. We need to talk.”

“But I will practice archery this afternoon,” Lindir started, a trace of defiance in his blue eyes. Erestor just looked at him until Lindir nodded, his eyes growing cold once again; cold as icicles, and as fragile. 

“What is the matter with him?” Erestor muttered uncharacteristically once Lindir was gone. He started back to Elrond’s house, and Gildor followed him. 

“What do you mean, Erestor? I have never seen Lindir fence before, and I must admit that it disturbed me, but I thought that something stirred in his mind when he… I was about to ask you if he should be allowed to wield a weapon.”

Erestor looked at Gildor. “That was a difficult decision to make, but Lindir seemed to adapt well and he’s never had any of those spells when fencing.”

“He is good, but he seemed to be somewhere else. He behaved as if he were in a real battle and not practicing with a friend. Lomië is his friend, isn’t he?”

Erestor nodded. 

“Then this behavior not normal for him,” Gildor said.

“No, it is not,” Erestor almost snapped. “Have you not noticed the change in him?”

Gildor stared at his cousin. “I’ve been busy.”

“You have been busy trying to stay away from him, I know.”

Gildor blinked. “Erestor…”

Erestor stopped walking. “What, cousin?”

Gildor took a deep breath. “Nothing. I will probably have to leave the vale soon, and I would like to see Glorfindel. Do you know when he is due to come back?”

Erestor’s calm expression wavered. “He should be back already. I am starting to worry. The Carrock is not that far, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless his party was attacked by orcs,” Erestor said grimly. “In that case…”

“Aren’t you going to send a patrol to look for him?”

“A patrol left the vale yesterday,” Erestor said tensely. It was obvious that he was worried, and Lindir’s strange behavior just added to the strain. 

“When will you have news?”

“At dawn.”

“I will be ready to leave the vale and search for him if he is not back with the patrol.”

Erestor opened his mouth to speak, but Gildor raised a hand.

“Don’t even try, Erestor. I am free to do as I wish. I’m not part of Elrond’s staff.”

“Then don’t waste my time,” Erestor said, and before Gildor could say anything, the younger elf turned around and left. 

Gildor counted to ten, and it didn’t work. He tried counting to twenty, and when he still wanted to hit Erestor, he turned on his heels and headed to the training camp. Lindir was there, training alone, almost dancing with the sword. Gildor shook his head; he was too angry to spar with Lindir. He started to turn around but Lindir’s words stopped him. 

“If you are looking for a training partner, I am here, Gildor.”

Gildor turned around slowly. “I believe Erestor said it was enough.”

Lindir’s expression hardened. “I need to practice. Do you not think I am good enough to give you a fight?”

Spoiled brat…

“One match and then you will do as Erestor says.”

Lindir nodded. “I promise.”

Gildor headed to the armory and chose a sword. If this was the way to understand what was wrong with Lindir, it was worth enduring Erestor’s bad mood later. He came out and stood before Lindir, sword in hand.

“Are you ready?” 

“Don’t hold back, Gildor.”

“I won’t,” Gildor said, and lunged forward.


	7. Chapter 7

Lindir was barely able to stop Gildor’s first thrust. He hadn’t realized how strong Gildor was, and how deadly he could be in battle. The blond elf was angry, and Lindir wondered if it was only because he had disobeyed Erestor’s orders. The tension in Gildor’s whole frame was noticeable, but it didn’t make him lose focus. Lindir started to fear Gildor would really hurt him. 

“Are you tired?” Gildor demanded, as he easily parried one of Lindir’s best thrusts. “Scared, perhaps? Do you wish to be in a real battle?”

Lindir felt a sudden surge of anger, and he lunged forward, forcing Gildor to back a few steps. “I’m not afraid! And I’m no child! I can go with the patrols! I will go with the patrols whether Erestor likes it or not.”

“You are just a spoiled brat,” Gildor continued relentlessly. “You don’t understand what the real thing is, what it means to lose everything you know, everyone you love.”

“Don’t you ever say that again!” Lindir was trembling with anger now. How could Gildor say such things? “I lost my parents! My father was killed and my mother… my mother was raped and I would have… If it were not…”

Lindir let go of his sword and fell to his knees, hating himself for his weakness. If he had been older, if he hadn’t been so scared… His mother had screamed, had begged the orcs not to hurt Lindir even as they hurt her. 

“My mother was killed by the orcs, probably raped, I don’t know,” Gildor said softly. “One of my father’s guards knocked me down and stopped me from fighting to defend Nargothrond. My father, Uncle Orodreth, Finduilas, her mother… All of them died while I was safe, hidden where no orc could find me. Many times I’ve wished I had died there, but it was not my fate.”

Lindir looked up at Gildor. “I would have died if those elves hadn’t found me, saved me… I cannot stay safe inside the vale while so many others risk their lives, Gildor. You must understand what I feel.”

Gildor knelt beside Lindir. “I do, Lindir. I wanted to do the same, but Rodnor stopped me. He challenged me to grow stronger and wiser before he allowed me to leave Balar and roam the lands to gather news for him. Your time will come, Lindir. You need to be patient.”

“My time is now,” Lindir said stubbornly. 

“Not yet,” Gildor said quietly. “Will you tell me when did you recover your memories, Lindir? Not even Elrond has been able to breach through the wall in your mind and now you speak of such sad things…”

Lindir looked down. “Stop, Gildor. Please.”

“No, Lindir. Hush, come to my arms, you need to cry, to mourn your parents properly, or the wound in your spirit will never heal.”

“I don’t want to cry,” Lindir whispered, but he was crying, sobbing. Gildor held him without saying a word, stroking his hair slowly until Lindir was too spent to do anything but lie in the older elf’s arms. 

“One day we will sail together,” Gildor said. “One day we will visit Cirdan and we will take a boat and find the straight road to the Blessed Lands. Your parents will be there, and so will mine, and if they are not yet out of the Halls, we will wait for them to be remade. 

Lindir pressed his face against Gildor’s chest. “Together, you promised so long ago. I am so afraid that you will leave without me one day. What if you are hurt, or killed…?”

Gildor cupped Lindir’s chin with his hand and made him look up. “There is less danger now, but if such thing happened I would come back to you as soon as Namo freed me. I will always come back to you, Lindir.”

It was maybe the heat of their fight, or the tenderness of the moment, but Lindir could not stop himself from pulling Gildor closer until their lips met. The kiss was different to the playful kisses Lindir had shared with elleths and ellons. It was as if his whole being was attuned to Gildor’s hands and lips, as if his very spirit was being willingly consumed in these new sensations. A song rose in his mind, strong and joyful, and Lindir could see himself like a bird that escapes its cage and flies freely for the first time in his life. 

“Lindir?”

There were warm hands on his face, and Gildor’s worried eyes came into focus. Lindir just smiled, which didn’t seem to calm Gildor. 

“The song… did you hear the song?”

“Actually, I did,” Gildor said carefully. “Was it you who…”

Lindir reached out to touch Gildor’s face. “Not a dream and I’m here and not a bird flying in the sky…”

“I will take you to the Healing House,” Gildor said determinedly.

Lindir smiled as Gildor picked him up. “I’m fine. I just… The song was in my mind and I was flying, and it was you who let me free.”

“The minstrel gift, but I have never heard anyone singing in my mind before. Just let the healers see you, all right? And maybe we should call Elrond too. Maybe he should see me too…”

Lindir placed a hand on Gildor’s heart. “I love you, Gildor.”

Gildor stopped walking. “Lindir, I’m too old for you to love… But I love you too. I can no longer escape these feelings.”

Fear had gripped Lindir’s heart when Gildor started to speak, but as soon as he’d had the certainty that he was loved back his spirit had quieted, leaving him deliciously exhausted. Lindir wanted to speak, to tell Gildor that there was no need to worry about being old, but he was simply too tired to speak. He heard Gildor speaking with Galathiel, one of the healers. 

“What happened to Lindir? Is he hurt?”

“I don’t think so, but please call Lord Elrond.”

“Gildor, Glorfindel was ambushed near the Gladden.”

That was Erestor. Lindir forced his eyes open. He had not even realized he had closed them until that moment. 

“Take care of him, Erestor.”

Lindir grabbed Gildor’s arm weakly. 

“I will come back, beloved. Please, do as I say and wait for me.”

Lindir nodded, though he could feel his spirit screaming against the separation. He could not stop Gildor from helping Glorfindel. He did not want anything to happen to Glorfindel!

“Go now, Gildor,” Erestor said. “The patrol is ready. Elrond is coming here. Lindir will be safe.”

Gildor nodded and after a last look at Lindir, he was gone. Lindir started to shake uncontrollably, unable to stop himself. Erestor was speaking to him, but Lindir could no longer understand the words. The song in his mind was sheer anguish, and the bird was falling from the sky. He was falling and there was no one to break his fall.


	8. Chapter 8

It had never been so difficult to leave the vale, but Gildor forced himself to ignore the anguish coming from Lindir’s mind, still surprised that he would feel it. Would Lindir feel whatever happened to him too? This could be a danger to Lindir, and to Gildor himself. Right now he was feeling as sick as Lindir had looked. 

“Are you sure you are up to this?” Galeth asked. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I just… I cannot explain now, Galeth.”

Galeth looked at him and nodded slowly. 

“Galeth…”

“We will speak about it later,” Galeth said, still looking worried. “And now try to focus on our mission, Gildor.”

Gildor nodded awkwardly. He was certain that Galeth wouldn’t mind, but the other elf was his lover and deserved an explanation of the current developments. The problem was that Gildor could not understand why he was feeling Lindir’s emotions. Mercifully the turmoil in his mind lessened as he put distance between himself and Lindir, and all that remained was a feeling of discomfort that Gildor pushed to the back of his mind. 

The captain of the patrol was Glorfindel’s second, an elf from Sindarin origin whose parents had moved to Imladris with Elrond. Brethilas had been one of the first elflings born in the vale. Glorfindel had chosen him because he knew the terrain well, and was skilled with a sword and with a bow and arrows. Despite his youth, the elf was a natural leader and had led the patrol more than once before.

They left the vale, going up the Misty Mountains at a steady pace until they reached the pass near the Gladden River. It was nearly midnight, but they couldn’t stop to rest. The scout had told them that Glorfindel managed to reach the eastern slopes of the mountains before sending him in search of help. As the scout climbed the mountains, he had seen another group of orcs had coming down the northern peaks of the Gladden Pass, cutting the patrol’s escape route. 

Hopefully there was still someone to rescue, Gildor mused as they hurried down the mountain. He didn’t want to lose his cousin, and it would be worse for Erestor, who had met Glorfindel in his first life in Gondolin. 

It was dawn when they reached the place at last, and the silence was oppressive. There was no trace of orcs, or elves. Brethilas sent a couple of scouts ahead, and when they didn’t return, the rest of the patrol advanced, hope mingled with concern. Either the scouts had been captured, or they had found Glorfindel and his small party, or whatever remained of them. 

As they ventured into the pass, Gildor could smell a horrible stench. They carefully walked around a huge boulder and found the carcasses of the orcs. Nobody had burned them, which meant there had been no time, but where were the elves then? 

“There!” Galeth said in a hushed voice. 

The scouts were lying on the ground, apparently unharmed. 

“They seem to be asleep, deeply so,” another elf said. 

Gildor nodded. They had to burn the carcasses, but where was Glorfindel? While Galeth and another guard tended to the scouts, Gildor turned to Brethilas, who was strangely still. Gildor followed the direction of Brethilas’ his sight and understood. Even with his hood up so it covered most of his face, Gildor would recognize the elf who had brought Elros and Elrond to him and Erestor. 

“Let me go and talk to him, Brethilas,” Gildor said quietly. 

Brethilas nodded. “Be careful. We will take care of the carcasses in the meanwhile. I don’t think we have to worry about orcs coming on us at the moment. I hope Glorfindel is still alive.”

“I hope so too,” Gildor said. He quickly glanced at Galeth, who nodded. He too had seen Maglor standing ahead. For a moment, Gildor wished his friend would come with him, but this was something he had to do alone. 

Maglor didn’t speak until they reached a small clearing near the carrock, where Glorfindel lay on a bed made of blankets, apparently asleep. 

“He was badly wounded, but Omar and I have tended to him. You will have to wait a few days to take him back.”

Gildor rushed to kneel at Glorfindel’s side. The blond elf’s left chest was heavily bandaged, and he looked very pale. Gildor reached out to touch Glorfindel’s forehead. It was warm, but not overly so. 

“Is he the only survivor?”

Maglor had come to kneel on the other side. “Unfortunately, yes. Omar and I had already left the area when it happened. He felt Glorfindel’s need.”

Gildor looked up, startled. “What? Why?”

“Because Glorfindel’s spirit is bright, almost like a Maiar. He has been reborn and seen Aman again, and he has come back…” 

“You wish you could go back.”

Maglor shook his head. “There is nothing for me there but pain and I would not make my mother suffer more than she has. I am not alone, and I can help others.”

“Like now, like you did with Lindir.”

“Lindir is a gifted child,” Maglor said. “He is one of Omar’s children, like I am, like many were before. You must be careful with him, though. Omar believes his path will be rough.”

Gildor paled. “We are… I can feel his emotions when we are close enough. I love him, and I will keep him safe.”

“That will be a difficult task,” Maglor said gently, “but maybe you should go back and tell your captain that you will need to stay around for a while. No orcs will come on you while Omar and I are here.”

Gildor nodded and stood. “Do you wish to send a message to Elrond? I believe he saw you in Lindir’s mind. He looked shaken. Brethilas will probably send a scout to tell him what happened… That we found Glorfindel and you.”

Maglor looked pained for a moment. “Tell him that I will come to him when the time is right. But tell him yourself when you return.”

“As you wish,” Gildor said. “Will you stay around then?”

Maglor nodded. “We will not leave until you start back to the vale.”

“Thank you,” Gildor said. He glanced at Glorfindel again before turning back. He could not feel anger toward Maglor anymore, and he wondered if it was because the elf had saved Lindir, and now Glorfindel. Shaking his head, Gildor decided that he would have a word with Maglor before returning to Imladris.


	9. Chapter 9

“Why are they not here yet?” Lindir asked Erestor once again. He was aware that his questions were trying the older elf’s patience, but he could not help himself. Gildor had been gone for over a week, and waiting for him calmly was straining Lindir’s already frayed nerves. 

“Eleirion said that they needed to wait for Glorfindel to recover,” Erestor said without looking up from the scrolls on his desk. 

“But they have taken long enough.”

Erestor looked up. “They might have stayed with Morbeorn in the Carrock.”

Lindir nodded. He knew now that Maglor and Omar had rescued him, and that they had left him in Morbeorn’s care. It was ironic that he would not remember his stay with the shapeshifters. Lindir sighed softly, and tried to concentrate on the very boring paperwork Erestor had given to him.

The older elf’s study was a warm and comfortable place, but dealing with the crops accounting was killing Lindir. He hated numbers, but he had to keep himself busy or he would go crazy. 

Lord Elrond had forbidden him to go anywhere near the training camp, and singing was out of the question. Lindir simply could not sing without having a panic attack. It was the dark sky again, the bird falling down, sinking into oblivion, alone without his partner…

“Lindir? Lindir, look at me. Breathe.”

Lindir shook his head slightly, focusing in Erestor’s words, breathing slowly until the dark sky around him vanished and he was back in the study. Cold sweat covered his body, and he could not stop shaking. 

“You should go to your rooms and rest.”

Lindir shook his head. “No, I will dream of the bird and the dark sky. I will fall without Gildor there… here... Erestor, I’m afraid. I will die if he doesn’t come back soon.”

“Lindir, you have lived without Gildor for nearly a century. You don’t need him to live. I understand that you love him, and that you are linked somehow, but you must be strong and wait for him without falling apart.”

It was always like this with Erestor, Lindir mused. He would always say the right thing to calm him. Lindir knew little of Erestor’s past life, but there were rumors about a love so great that not even death had erased it from the older elf’s heart. 

“You are right. I have to pull myself together.”

Erestor’s expression softened. “But maybe you should leave the accounting to me and go help Celebrían with the twins. That will distract you.”

Lindir smiled. “Oh, thank you, Erestor! Not that I think your job is boring, no, but I’m no good with numbers! I swear I have tried but I don’t understand them…”

Erestor smiled wryly. “I have heard that excuse in Lindon before, so don’t. Just leave before I change my mind.”

Lindir grinned and rushed outside Erestor’s study. He loved the twins dearly, so spending time with them would surely help…

_There was a warrior riding into battle, orcs and men, all of them bearing the mark of Sauron… Golden hair escaped the warrior’s helm, his grey eyes were fierce, and his sword was deadly… Then came Sauron, and the warrior was not fast enough to stop what happened. Nobody was, and probably nobody could, and then Gil-galad was gone, and so was Elendil, and Isildur…_

Lindir shook himself out of the memories, not his memories now, but Gildor’s. His beloved was close! Lindir could sense relief and concern in a strange mix that made his head swim. He rushed through the corridors, oblivious to anything but his need to be with Gildor. It was as if his whole soul screamed for his loved one. 

“Lindir!”

Lindir didn’t even turn around to see who was calling him, and soon he was on his horse, riding as fast as he could without being a danger to the elves who crossed his path. He could feel Gildor’s acknowledgement of his presence, and his worry for Lindir’s frame of mind. It brought Lindir back to reality, and he slowed down as he struggled to calm himself. 

A few moments later, he saw the first riders coming down the path, scouts first, and then Brethilas with Gildor, who was bringing Glorfindel with him. Galeth came next, and then the rest of the patrol. Lindir suddenly felt silly at having come, but Gildor gave him a reassuring smile.

“How is Glorfindel?” Lindir asked. 

“Battered up, but fine,” Glorfindel mumbled before Gildor could answer. 

Lindir smiled, relieved, and returned to the vale with the patrol. They found Lord Elrond and Erestor in the stables, and Glorfindel was quickly led to the Healing House. Gildor gathered him in his arms.

“I have missed you, Lindir.”

“I have missed you too.” Lindir rested against Gildor’s solid frame gratefully, not caring that they were still outside the stables and other elves could see them. He needed this closeness so badly that he wondered how he was going to endure Gildor’s absence when he left the vale. Would Gildor take him now? 

“I need to bathe, Lindir,” Gildor said. “Come with me to my house?”

Not all the elves had baths in their houses, but Gildor did. Lindir blushed slightly at the thought of seeing Gildor naked, but what disturbed him more was the sudden longing in his flesh. This gave him pause. What would Galeth say if Lindir and Gildor…? Would it happen now? Would Gildor say that he was too old and that they should part?

“Stop, love,” Gildor said softly. “I can sense the turmoil in your mind. Come with me, and we will speak about everything.”

Lindir nodded and allowed Gildor to lead him to his cabin. He had to be strong, and not a weak creature that begs for love. He had to heal, to be himself again, so Gildor didn’t feel pity for him. Lindir wanted love, not compassion. 

They entered Gildor’s cabin, and as soon as the door was closed, Lindir couldn’t stop himself from kissing the older elf. It was as if his whole body was on fire, and it scared him. Gildor pulled him closer, and answered the kiss with equal passion, and for a moment Lindir believed they would make love right there. 

“As much as I wish to take you now, we should not rush things, dear one,” Gildor said softly. “The last time we kissed you escaped to a world of wonder and almost pulled me with you. It is not that I don’t like being linked with you in this way, but we must understand what is happening first. I have no wish to hurt you.”

Lindir’s heart sank. “You will hurt me if you refuse me now, Gildor. I thought… I have never… Is Galeth still your lover?”

Gildor almost smiled, but to Lindir’s relief he simply shook his head and steered him to an armchair.

“I’m not refusing you, Lindir, and no, Galeth is no longer my lover. There was never this kind of love between us. We were just companions, best friends, and making love gave us comfort. His beloved died long ago, and he’s been holding back here because he didn’t want to leave me alone.”

Lindir felt ashamed of his jealousy. “Galeth must love you very much,” he said quietly.

“Yes, he loves me and now that I have found you… now that I have stopped lying to myself about my feelings for you, he will sail to Aman. I will leave once you are recovered, but I cannot take you with me on this trip.”

Lindir had never dreamed that Gildor would agree to take him in his travels. He was so surprised that he simply hugged Gildor tightly, feeling lightheaded.

“We need to speak to Elrond about this link, dear one. If I had been on the road I would have fallen off my horse.”

“Sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize. Just try to remember I feel everything you feel. We just need to control this… Ah, Lindir, you are so beautiful that I am about to throw caution away and…”

Lindir framed Gildor’s face with his hands. “Just do it, Gildor. Whatever can go wrong if I am with you? Didn’t Eärendil’s light show you that I was meant to be with you?”

Gildor smiled, and kissed the palms of Lindir’s hands. “I don’t remember saying that when I told you the tale, love. But aye, it seems that was Eärendil's intent. I just didn’t realize it back then. I love you so much that it hurts to be away from you.”

“Then don’t stay away, for now, for the time we have, just let me close, Gildor. Please, don’t send me away.”

“I won’t.” There was a new luster in Gildor’s eyes and this time when the older elf kissed him, Lindir was ready for the flight.


	10. Chapter 10

Gildor quietly finished dressing himself making as little noise as possible, unwilling to wake his beautiful lover so early. Lindir was lying on the bed completely naked, his slim body covered by nothing but his long dark hair. Lindir always threw the blankets away, which was just fine right now because the weather was becoming warmer. 

Lindir had looked gaunt and thin when Gildor returned to the vale with Brethilas’ patrol, but the color had returned to his cheeks, and his sleep was calmer. They were both becoming better at dealing with this strange connection they shared. It was not a proper mental link, but something that made one aware of the other’s presence and emotions. Lindir’s calmer state of mind might not last long, though, as Gildor would soon leave the vale with Galeth so his beloved friend could sail to Aman. They had been together for so long, even if they both were destined to other lovers, that Gildor would miss him sorely. 

After a long talk, Lindir had agreed to stay in the vale until he reached his first century. Elrond had advised that Lindir didn’t leave the vale for longer, but the young elf was stubborn. There was also Lindir’s fear of losing Gildor to a band of orcs, even if that was unlikely. 

“Are you leaving already?” a sleepy voice asked.

Gildor smiled and sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to smooth Lindir’s hair. It was so soft that Gildor felt a sudden urge to bury his fingers in it and make love to Lindir once again. It was tempting to undress and get back in bed, but he had to leave. 

“I am, though I wish I could stay for a few more days.”

Lindir leaned into the caress and for a moment there was a veil of sadness in his eyes, but then he recovered and gave Gildor his most beautiful smile.

“You will come back, and I will be here waiting for you.”

Gildor pulled Lindir up and into his arms. “I will be thinking of you every day that we are not together.”

Lindir brushed Gildor’s lips with his own. “Do not forget about me in the Havens, Gildor. If you must sail, call for me, and I will be there in the time the trip takes.”

Gildor closed his lips over Lindir’s and kissed him slowly, drinking in the sweetness of his lover’s taste. He opened his mind like Elrond had taught him, allowing Lindir to see his love, and his determination to come back unharmed. 

Lindir kissed him back hungrily, and Gildor could sense the fear in his young lover’s heart, and the fragility of his frame of mind. It made Gildor fear for his lover’s sanity, but he quickly pushed that fear away so Lindir didn’t sense it. 

“I will come back,” Gildor said softly. “Trust me. Nothing will happen to me, and if I feel the urge to sail, I will come for you and take you with me to the Havens.”

Lindir nodded slowly, his eyes glazed by visions of darkness that Gildor gently cleared away from both their minds. He wished he could stay, but Galeth’s time on Middle-earth was up, had been for a long time. Gildor owed him these few weeks.

“I want you to move to Elrond’s house, Lindir.”

“I wish to stay here,” Lindir murmured, still not recovered from the visions. That didn’t make him less stubborn, Gildor noticed. 

He kissed Lindir’s forehead. “This is our home, but I will be worried if you stay alone. Please, love, just for a few days? Remember that Elrond said it would be difficult for you.”

Lindir shook his head and moved away. “I’m not as weak as Lord Elrond thinks.”

“No, you are very strong, but there are always times in which we need help from those who love us. This link is new for us, Lindir. I myself have to be careful.”

Lindir looked down, obviously trying to find a reason to stay in the house alone. Gildor could feel the turmoil in the younger elf’s mind, but to his relief it faded away and when Lindir looked up again, his blue eyes were clear.

“I will move to Lord Elrond’s house for a while so you don’t worry, but only until I feel stronger.”

“Thank you, love.”

Lindir’s expression softened and he embraced Gildor tightly. “Take care of yourself, Gildor.”

“I will, I promise.”

Lindir didn’t move away, and Gildor could feel his lover trembling as the bird in his mind struggled to stay in the sky, unable to sing like Lindir was now, but growing stronger as he climbed higher and higher. Gildor held him close, trying to share whatever strength he could so the precious bird didn’t fall down. 

“I wish I could sing for you,” Lindir said quietly. 

“Lindir…”

“Sing for me, please. Remember that song I sang when we met?”

Gildor nodded. He started to sing, wishing he could do something to help Lindir. Music was an important part of his lover’s spirit, and it seemed to be gone. 

“Sleep now, dear one,” Gildor whispered when the song was over. “I will be back as soon as possible.”

“I know…”

They stayed like that, resting in silence, until Lindir relaxed completely and fell asleep. A soft knock at the door signaled Erestor’s arrival. Gildor rested Lindir on the bed and wrapped his body in the blankets before letting Erestor in. 

“It is time, Gildor.”

“Don’t let him stay here alone, Erestor. He promised he would stay in Elrond’s house for a while.” 

Erestor nodded. “I will take him there myself and keep a close eye on him.”

“If something happens, and I’m too far away to sense him…”

“I will send someone to find you. Now go, Gildor. Galeth and your company are waiting.”

Gildor nodded, and after a last look at his lover, left the house and started to the stables. Soon he would be out on the road with Galeth and his company, surveying the lands for any sign of darkness, gathering news, and trading with elves, men and dwarves. Soon they would be at the Havens, and Galeth would sail to the West. 

_Wait for me, Lindir. Wait for me and be well, love. I promise you I will come back, and we will stay together._


End file.
